


Revolutions of the Celestial Spheres

by subjunctive



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Belle Epoque, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjunctive/pseuds/subjunctive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the year 1900, Miss Jane Foster visits the Stark Exposition and runs into someone unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revolutions of the Celestial Spheres

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I ran with your prompt for a historical AU. The shippy content is blink-and-you-miss-it, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Loki had barely looked up when introduced to his brother's latest conquest. She was not the first Thor had taken notice of, nor was she even the first woman he had courted seriously, although she was the first to receive a ring. She was not even especially beautiful or noteworthy: pretty in the most forgettable way possible, with no special skills or distinctions.

The only interesting thing about her was how she disrupted everything by her simply being.

She had neither title nor land to recommend her, having been raised most untraditionally by an eccentric uncle (herself an orphan since childhood). By all accounts, the uncle, an inventor, had traveled frequently and simply brought her with him rather than leave her in the care of a governess. Having been allowed an alarming amount of freedom, she was outspoken, unmannered, and, quite simply, unsuitable for an aristocratic marriage in every conceivable way.

So, naturally, Thor had met her while the brothers had been adventuring in Italy and proposed within three days, bringing her – and her guardian – back with them to Norway, where everything had exploded in fantastic fashion, just as Loki had tried to warn Thor it would. Mother, in her eternal patience, had been kind and gentle with her, like someone with a small frightened animal; Father, on the other hand, had declared her as unsuitable as a goat at a banquet table. The lady confirmed this opinion with her stubbornness and dedication to staying.

As entertaining as Loki found the possibility of no longer being the black sheep of the family himself, any fool with eyes could see that there was no long-term future between Thor and Miss Foster, despite the ostensible engagement.

The only question was _when_ it would end.

Not, apparently, before the family's occasional trip, this year to the city of New York, and this year with guests in tow. For the first time in years, Loki found himself looking forward to it.

  
 

Jane knew she should have been grateful for Mrs. Borson's attentions – and she was, she honestly was – but not for the first time since she'd accepted Thor's marriage proposal, she was frustrated.

They were going to leave soon for America by boat, and Jane was looking forward to it, generally speaking. She had spent several years of her childhood out West before coming to Europe, and although their present plans were to stay on the Eastern seaboard, she still liked the idea of going back, of hearing people who spoke like her and had similar sensibilities.

What she did _not_ like was all the preparation.

She was no aristocrat or member of the gentry; Erik had money from his inventions, but their lives had been relatively spare of pomp and pretension. She had known Thor was wealthy and his family important before the proposal – it was hard to miss, with the way he acted and how his brother and friends spoke of themselves – but she hadn't really considered what all of that entailed.

Apparently, there were a lot of needles involved.

Jane winced as another one poked her calf, and the seamstress made a face where she thought Jane couldn't see.

"It will only be a few more hours, Jane," Mrs. Borson assured her with a kindly pat on the arm. "Once they finish taking your measurements, we will be free to explore the city."

Exploring Paris – now _that_ was an activity Jane could look forward to. All of this nonsense she was currently enduring was in service to Jane becoming a proper lady, which seemed to include biannual visits to Paris for a wardrobe fitting.

The latest fashions, she'd been told, as if she knew anything about that, and she had been given a copy of _Les Modes_ to look through for inspiration. In its pages, Jane had discovered that there were dresses for morning, dresses for evening, dresses for tea, and all manner of undergarments she had never encountered or at least never been forced to wear. ("Corsets are an abomination," Erik had said on more than one occasion, and never prompted her to wear one. Jane rather thought it was really because there wasn't anyone to help her put it on.) And how many times she was expected to change outfits in a single day! In short, everything had looked very complicated.

Not so to Mrs. Borson, however. She had flipped through the pages with expertise and an eye for detail and fashion, conferring quietly with another woman in the corner, pointing to designs and discussing colors. Jane supposed that the older woman was choosing Jane's wardrobe as well as her own, as no one had asked her any questions about her own preferences.

Even if Jane knew nothing about fashion and would have gladly taken advice after asking for it, having her choices taken away still made her bristle. Mrs. Borson had at least asked her about the colors she liked to wear; there was that.

Jane shifted uncomfortably and the skirt she was wearing moved, making the seamstress cluck at her in disapproval.

Closing her eyes, Jane thought of her books, the small collection she'd gathered over the years and under Eric's tutelage lining the walls of the room she'd been given. Most of what they had belonged to Eric, of course, but book by book she was building her own private library.

She pictured her favorite titles in her head: _De revolutionibus orbium coelestium_ , _Sidereus Nuncius_ , _Harmonices Mundi_. Each was well-loved and worn for it, and thinking of them—and the ideas within them—brought Jane some small comfort during the rest of the poking and prodding.

Finally they were declared finished. They would pick up the finished dresses at the end of the next week, and then it was onward to New York.

And the Exposition. Jane's heart lifted at the thought.

  
 

Discovering how to get to the Exposition was easy. It wasn't even very far from where they were staying.

Discovering how to get to the Exposition without being noticed – that was the hard part.

Erik was, unfortunately, otherwise occupied, or she could have simply accompanied him. The family would consider it improper for her to roam the streets alone, without an escort. Even though Jane might have seen women strolling alone in New York City alone, she knew that Thor's family would never see it as appropriate, nor would they approve of her rather unorthodox interests.

Which was how she found herself lying to Mrs. Borson one morning not long after their arrival, as they were reclining in the parlor, along with Thor's younger brother, who regarded her curiously the whole time. She invented a friend she was supposed to call on, and barely managed to convince them that she could do without an escort, as it was a very short walk, really, and she didn't want to be a nuisance at all. The lie made guilt and anxiety twist in her stomach, and it was not helped by Loki's watchful gaze, which regarded her until she left his sight.

The moment she stepped outside, however, she felt better. Without the weight of prying eyes, under the sunlight and open sky, her step felt lighter and her mind freer. Her thoughts flew to the inventions and exhibits she might see at the Exposition, each one more interesting and strange than the last.

Which was why she did not notice as, a few minutes later, another figure descended the steps and followed her, pulled into her orbit.

  
 

The Exposition turned out to be both more and less thrilling than she expected. It was _huge_ , spanning city blocks, with vendors on every corner. It had only begun a few weeks before, too, so there was a healthy crowd, excited murmurs wherever Jane turned her ear. There were musicians and street performers and artists everywhere – but the theme of the fair had been to focus on scientific and technological innovations, according to the man who had hosted it, and that was the only part Jane herself was interested in.

So she found herself growing more frustrated that she could not find what she wanted. They were already out of maps for the day – "I'm sorry, Miss, we'll have some more tomorrow" – and it was not obvious at first sight where she should go.

Standing on her tiptoes, Jane tried to peer down the center row of exhibits to see the signs, but--

"Excuse me," a voice interrupted her thoughts. "Are you lost?" Its speaker, however, sounded more amused than concerned.

Jane turned around to be confronted by—Loki, dark and tall and eying her with something like interest, which she could not remember him ever paying her before. She paled, eyes darting around him.

His smile only broadened at her reaction. "Fancy meeting you here, Miss Foster."

Light sarcasm undergirded his words, putting Jane on edge. "Loki," she allowed.

"I must say, this doesn't look the abode of a . . ." He paused for effect. "Miss Darcy Lewis?"

Jane swallowed and turned back, so that they were side-by-side. "I'm making a brief, entirely temporary detour." Even to her own ears the words sounded weak.

"Is that so. You're not here to observe the Renaissance paintings, or the opera, or Stark's horrid automata . . ." 

When she looked over at his voice trailing off, she found that Loki was looking over a map. "How did you get a map?" she demanded, reaching for it.

He clucked at her disapprovingly, holding it just out of reach. "Why, Miss Foster. You need simply tell me where you wish to go."

Jane crossed her arms and debated the merits of staying with him. If she did, she might be able to convince him not to say anything to anyone else. And he _did_ have the map. On the other hand, it looked like he was feeling especially obnoxious today. They had not interacted much previously, but Jane's impression of him was that he was quiet, sly, and up to no one's good except his own.

"I'm here to see the astronomical lectures," she said finally, looking straight ahead.

"Are you now." He sounded surprised, if that were possible. It was enough to make Jane turn and look at him. "Well, according to the schedule, the first will begin soon in one of the lecture halls. Care to join me?"

Apparently they were to be stuck together. Heaving a breath, Jane acquiesced.

  
 

It had been rather his impression that Jane had wanted to keep her head down and attract no attention, with all the secrecy and clandestine travel.

This did not, apparently, extend to speaking up when a lecturer made an error. It had begun as a mere correction, polite and deferent enough, but the lecturer had not reacted well, and it had ended in a full-blown shouting match.

And now they were sitting outside, escorted so politely by the exposition's security members.

Jane was pacing back and forth in front of the bench where he'd sat down. "I can't _believe--_ His calculations about the travel of light from distant stars were just _wrong_ , hasn't he read--"

Loki ceased paying attention to her words, instead studying her figure. Wisps of hair had contrived to escape from their arrangement, and her face had flushed, from the anger or the heat or the exertion of argument. He had not paid much attention to her before, the sweet but unmannered girl, but armed with her fury and her unexpected intelligence, he thought her suddenly quite lovely.

Following on the heels of this thought was a stab of jealousy. Had Thor ever had the pleasure of witnessing her in this state? It was not an unfamiliar feeling.

Discomfited by the bitterness of this thought, he said nothing until she sat down next to him and sighed, finally running out of steam. "Sorry for going insane," she said, peeling off her gloves and laying them in her lap with a sigh of relief. "And thank you, for sticking up for me in there," she added.

"It was nothing. The lecturer insulted Norwegian scientists. I consider it my national duty."

She smiled then, a small thing, but a victory nonetheless. _His_ victory.

"Do you wish to go home?"

Stiffening, Jane said hesitantly, "What are you going to tell them? Your family?"

He considered trying to steal a kiss from her, in return for his silence. But he found, much to his discomfort, that he did not want her to look at him like he was a monster. "Nothing," he said finally, looking away from her. "Although I doubt they would much care that you went to the exposition, if it troubles you. If you wish to come again," he added, not without a little hope.

Jane shook her head and sighed. "I wouldn't know. I always seem to be doing something wrong."

That he could relate to. In response, he stood from the bench and held out a hand to her. Startled, she looked up at him. Gripping his hand, she rose, and swayed into him as if by gravity.

"I believe there are some lectures on physics later this afternoon. I am sure there are some scientists you have not bested with your wit and learning that will be there."


End file.
